I love avocados, sometimes (read: daily) stand on my head to get my creative juices flowing, and I could listen to The Beatles sing, “I’ve Just Seen A Face” everyday, for the rest of forever.

Wondering what goes on here? Yup, so are the rest of us.

1. I am a lifestyle photographer. I have the most remarkable clients in the world, and I share their images here to inspire us all to live life with greater love, meaning and joy.

2. I am a writer. This blog is full of many of the curious thinks I have thunk.

3. I am a speaker and life/business consultant. I post upcoming speaking engagements and consulting information here as well.

4. I am most fulfilled by my work as a wife and mother to my 4 sons, one of whom now lives in Heaven. I share bits and pieces of our journey here on this blog. Including our ongoing struggle with grief, our experiences with ADHD and SPD, and our solid faith in a God much bigger than the challenges we face.

But ultimately, I hope that this blog is about something much bigger than all of that.My dream is for this blog to be a place where real life comes to be celebrated and enthusiastically embraced. Not just the pretty stuff, with tailored hems, clean lines,and the new colors for spring . . . but everything else, too. The frazzled mornings, broken hearts, crazy dreams, messy kitchens. . . even the fear, failure, hopelessness and devastation. I want this blog to be a place for every bit of what makes us all living, breathing, feeling human beings, experiencing together this remarkable thing called life.

May this be a place of passion, purpose, laughter, tears, friendship, encouragement and inspiration for us all.

In 2010, our perfect *”Baby Gavin” returned to Heaven after losing a courageous battle with **Pertussis (whooping cough). We are eternally and profoundly grateful to the thousands upon thousands (upon thousands) of friends and strangers from all over the world, of all faiths and creeds, who united with our family in prayer during Baby Gavin’s horrific illness and who grieved with us and continued to petition God in our behalf during the dark days following his tragic death. You may read Gavin’s story as it unfolded by visiting my old blog here. I am committed to sharing my ongoing struggles with grief and our journey toward joy here on the new blog. I am always humbled and amazed by the continued outpouring of love and support. Thank you for sharing in our journey and inspiring us with your unceasing love! God is good!

*My brother Gavin passed away unexpectedly in 2007. With all these Angel Gavins, it can get a little confusing at times, so just know that when I refer to “Gavin” I’m referring to my wonderful brother. When I refer to “Baby Gavin,” it is in reference to my perfect son, both of whom I cannot wait to see in Heaven!

**You will periodically see me blog about The Sounds of Pertussis campaign. I am an unpaid spokesperson and am only compensated travel expenses where applicable for my involvement with this important cause. Join our fight against this deadly communicable disease at www.soundsofpertussis.com or like us on facebook at www.facebook.com/soundsofpertussis.

It’s so hard for me to write these words, to own this reality of my life on paper. I’ve battled with the decision to blog the details of my journey with Cardon for so long. I would never want to betray my beautiful little boy. But, I really want to share my authentic journey. I think my ability and willingness to do so does something significant. Not for the world at large, I’m not that much of a narcissist, but for me, my family, my heart. . . is that simply a form of narcissism in disguise? I sincerely hope it’s not.

Sometimes it’s hard . . . mothering a child like Cardon.

Hard in the way that pushes you a hundred miles past your breaking point and then a hundred more, only to wake you up, in the middle of the night, to start the process all over again.

Hard in the way that shoves all the preconceived notions of your younger years about parenting (and discipline, and education, and medication, and nutrition, and meditation, and love, and hate, and world peace. . . forcryingoutloud!) right back down your ignorant little throat. They taste much worse on the way back down; I’ll tell you that much.

From the outside, looking in, it’s impossible to see. Even our very closest friends and family are oblivious to the specific challenges we face. Until you’ve lived it, day in and day out, until you’ve seen all the faucets, experienced all the complexity, it’s simply impossible for even the most well intentioned, empathic friend on Earth to fully understand.

My son is special. Remarkably so. It is impossible to explain just how dear, and brilliant, and passionate, and charming, and perfect he really is.

He is a born Creative. He is, beyond argument, artistically gifted in every.single.way. He excels at math, and he is more giving and generous than anyone I have ever met. He is tender and loving, genuine and kind, trusting and sincere.

There is not a mean or malicious bone in that solid little body. Not a one.

He makes a room bright, just by being in it. You could never find a better friend the world over.

Cardon makes the world seem as if anything were possible, and for a soul like HIS? I really believe that anything is. . .

But there are storms. Storms that bring out every one of my weaknesses, until they are blaring in my face, threatening to swallow me whole.

Sometimes, there is so much screaming. Top of the lungs, screaming. The kind of screaming that would be bound to make the back of his throat burn and his eyes hot from the pressure. I do my best to calmly breathe my way through the noise.

Sometimes, he simply can’t let go. He becomes so rigid and completely fixated on a certain plan (or pattern,or expectation) that there is NO way around, only Hell to pay for the rest of us. I do my best to breathe my way through the high water.

Sometimes, when things have spun completely and totally out of control, I can’t find my breath. I get so angry and frustrated. I feel like my heart is going to explode and my lungs are going to collapse as I try to breathe my way through it.

NONE of this is Cardon’s fault. And NONE of it is mine. He is a good son. And I am a good mother.

For such a long time, I worried that my speaking openly about Cardon’s difficulties ran the risk of making him seem wrong, broken, somehow damaged. He is not any of those things! Cardon is BRAVE and BRIGHT! Cardon is more capable than anyone I’ve ever met in my life.

But, at least for a time, Cardon is going to struggle. Certain things are going to be difficult for him, no matter what. He is going to have to learn his own special way to move through these challenges, academically, socially, emotionally. It’s these realities that give me the courage to discuss this openly.

Right now, I have the power to help my son navigate these unavoidable challenges in a healthy way. Right now, I have the opportunity to give my son something that is more valuable than anything else I could ever give him: unconditional love and a confident heart.

And if my goal genuinely is for Cardon to learn to confidently advocate for himself, and it IS, then I have to be ready to release any and all taboo–right at the starting gate.

As I write these things, I believe in my heart of hearts that I am doing my part to offer normalcy to Cardon (and others like him). At the very least, I’m offering some normalcy and understanding to our crazy life. Our crazy life that I truly would not have ANY.OTHER.WAY.

Eventually, I have complete faith that Cardon will learn to stand solidly on his own two feet. That remarkable spirit, that has ALWAYS been too big for his little body, WILL find a healthy equilibrium. We’ll all learn to courageously navigate these challenges in a healthy way, and his spirit will be even MORE robust and wise from the journey.

The reality is that our challenges together, (all of us: Cardie, me, Richie, Raleigh, and Lincoln) bless us all far more than they hurt us, and in all the ways that really matter. There is more to be learned, more about patience, true love, loyalty and humility from this little spirit than we could find anywhere else, not in a million years.

Cardon blesses us all more than words can say. I feel so deeply honored that God has entrusted our family with a child as exceptional as him.

I love you, Cardon Gregory. With all of me. I do.

Mommy

Post Script: To those of you who do understand the intimate details of parenting a child like ours, from one “special mommy” to another, I offer my most heart felt and genuine namaste.

Post Post Script: I know. Parenting is hard for all of us. LIFE is hard for ALL.OF.US. We each have our own, insurmountable challenges that absolutely push us beyond ourselves. I’m not sharing this to belittle anyone else’s journey. I’m simply sharing a part of my journey that makes my life particularly challenging. There’s no comparison here, no weighing in of battle wounds. Only words.

Bonnie Richards:
When I finally stopped trying to ram a square peg into a round hole, life became better for all of us. Oversimplified, I'm sure but I have a 33 year old angel of a son who finally figured out how to work with himself and accept that different and comfortable for him is what works. He still has issues but he is a good man and has found his place in society, the church and with his work. The college degree was hard won but worth it for his self esteem and sense of worth. Hang in there, advanced systems are at your fingertips when we had so few. How about calling it sensory processing route change. They perceive and process differently making it a pain for us in society. There's really nothing wrong with them. December 6, 2011 9:40 pm

Jo Thomas:
I just love the toothy grin! That's a perfect piece of art in itself! Thanks Natalie (and Bonnie) for sharing such a huge part of your life as a mommy so honestly; your outlook reminds me of a line in Forrest Gump when he had braces fitted to his leg and his mother explained 'If God wanted us all to be the same, he would've given us all braces on our legs." Different isn't always easy but it is special xo December 6, 2011 10:05 pm

stephanie joy:
Oh you communicated so many things in my heart about my Ambrose boy that I can never say right to a teacher, doctor, or friend... I always walk away feeling misunderstood or like I have done him a dis-service somehow because now that person might think there's something wrong with him and not see him for the bright, shiny soul that he is! This is lovely and I GET IT. Love you! December 6, 2011 10:18 pm

Renee:
Ah, I know all too well ;) My "baby" boy is now 13....so hard to believe. It's also hard for me to wrap my brain around how this same child, who at the age of 4, could barely say a word, now speaks nonstop and knows the inner workings of a computer better than most adults. He is such a gift to me....to everyone he meets. It's been a tough road at times, but I've always been very forthcoming with R's autism. With others and with him - it's part of who he is but it doesn't define him. I truly believe that it helps educate the world and let's face it, the main issue that most special needs kids face is that the just need to be understood. That their behaviors and actions have a reason.
So cudos to you - and really, the most important thing we can do for any of our kids is to just love them to pieces.
I wrote a similar post about my boy this year on his 13th birthday...http://www.reneebowenblog.com/2011/09/thirteen/
xoxo December 6, 2011 10:44 pm

Kara Couch:
From one mommy of a special boy to another....thank you. Some days seem insurmountable, like never climbing out of bed would be better than trying. Many times we don't get by from one day to the next, but from one moment to the next---one shaky breath to the next. But you are right, no one---no matter how well intentioned---can possibly understand unless they have lived it. God bless you in your journey with your special boy. December 7, 2011 12:35 am

Thereasa Gwinn:
This is exactly my life with my oldest. You said it better than I ever could have! December 7, 2011 2:20 am

Niki:
We have an amazing, wonderful, passionate child who pushes me every day as well...I TURLY appreciate your words, as there is something very comforting to know that I am not alone. December 7, 2011 4:47 am

Amy Garver:
This could not have come to me at a better time. Thank you for such a beautiful descripion of the emotions that stir in all "special" moms. God bless you and your family as you continue your journey. December 7, 2011 4:48 am

Ryan:
Beautiful post Natalie. Thank you for sharing a glimpse of your life with us. I'm loving the blog these past few weeks more than ever. December 7, 2011 5:32 am

cassie:
Natalie.... You truely amaze me. I am so proud of you for stating so wonderfully exactly how I feel about my special needs daughter. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for. You are strong for sharing Cardons journey with the rest of us. I have shared some of ky Kaylees journey on my blog, and some of my feelings. But not nearly as beautifully as you did.
Even though I have never personally met you, I love you and you are one of my heroes in this life!
Love Cassie December 7, 2011 5:32 am

shari:
LOVE! Love you and love your sweet boy! i completely understand what you are saying about wanting to help him in every possible way - that is how i feel about jakob with his adhd/anxiety/depression. i think you'll find that "putting it out there" like this will really help you sort through a lot of your thoughts and feelings...writing is SO theraputic! thanks for sharing, as always. xoxo from HB December 7, 2011 6:00 am

Freddie Jewkes:
He sounds wonderful and perfect, just the way the Lord made him, and to be honest I think we "normal" people are the ones with all the problems in life. Im pretty sure Cardon has earned his way already. :) Bless your heart :) December 7, 2011 6:23 am

Amelialyon:
Your a good mom Natalie! Thanks for sharing this & giving me permission to feel frustrated as a parent during the difficult things our kids go through. It's okay & these things will give us all experience & will be for our good! December 7, 2011 6:31 am

Kyren:
Thank you for posting this. I have a two year old with sensory processing disorder. December 7, 2011 6:55 am

Dolly:
I miss that boy! His brightness could always boost my damper mood. I needed his light way more than he ever needed my hand. Give him a squeeze from Auntie Barbie and kiss his leg elbow for me and make sure his dad doesn't forget to feed him before attending the concert.... ;) So many memories. xoxo December 7, 2011 7:18 am

Lauren:
This hit so close to home. I am not a mother of a special needs child but I am a sister; a younger sister. At times I have felt like the older sister and sometimes even a mother because the things that came easy to me did not come easy to her, and I felt like I had to show her. BUT.. the things that come easy to her are the things that matter. Like you have described you son, she is the most trusting, caring, loving person. When she is herself she would not want to hurt anyone. I think they are the lucky ones who have a different set of challenges.. the kind of challenges only they could conquer. God will judge them so differently. We are so blessed to learn from them and try and grow through the trials that sometimes come with them. I love your blog. Thank you for helping us all know that it is so healthy to express ourselves. December 7, 2011 7:56 am

Kirstin:
You are such a great writer! I've been feeling these exact same words but never knew how to say or write them. I am glad you did because I know a lot of mothers that are my dear friends that have a child or two with special needs and they need to hear words like these. My Oldest son is such a light in our family. I cannot explain my love and appreciation for him. I know others looking in from the outside would think that life was uncontrolably hard for me and feel sorry for me that I lead such a crazy day to day life. But like you said. I would have it now other way. Children, especially those with special needs bring out emotions and learning for mothers that bless them and their families. I never knew I could be so love a child so much and be so thankful even for the trying times that come along. Thank you for writing such a beautiful post. December 7, 2011 8:22 am

Sarah Klock:
yes. ;) as i've written to you in the past, my amazing J makes everything bigger and brighter. I wouldn't want him any other way. Sending him out into the world of 1st grade has left me raw and vulnerable, and I'm learning (trying?) to see this as necessary and productive. Learning to be his best advocate and teaching him how to be his own very best advocate is the most challenging, frightening, and deeply grounding thing I've ever done. Thanks for this post. December 7, 2011 8:32 am

Amanda:
Thank you for being willing to share your honest journeys. I think far too often we "hide" the difficult parts of our lives because so often people judge or compare just like you pointed out at the end of the post. I truly admire you and your family, you are an amazing mother and through your example and your actions he will make it through and he will be stronger for it! December 7, 2011 12:33 pm

Rachel Boatright DeVault:
I read this post this morning, and I've been mulling it over all day. I love your love for your son. I love what I read of Cardon. I am inspired--deeply--to love my children as they are, to feed their souls and to be the champions of their lives. You make me want that. :) December 7, 2011 4:50 pm

Katie Madsen Weber:
Thank you so much, Natalie, for saying what I feel so eloquently. I have an autistic son who is 5, and it is by far the hardest thing I've ever faced, and the thing that has given me my wings. It changes EVERYTHING. December 7, 2011 6:14 pm

Sally:
Aloha Nathalie,
I am also a mommy to three little boys, one of them being such a special challenge for me and my husband. Your blog post really touched me today, as I've been really trying hard lately to see all the good in this situation. it's hard for us to describe in words to family and friends, the day to day challenges we face with him, but they are definitely there. They are in our house, and in our daily lives, making each day harder than I ever imagined it was supposed to be with kids. I've thought about blogging about him and my feelings, but like you said, I never wanted to point my finger or make him feel bad. It's nice to know I'm not alone, that there is another mom struggling with similar challenges. God bless you and yours. December 7, 2011 7:43 pm

julie:
Phenomenal message. This post displays the spirit and challenges for your entire family as you raise a family willing and able to advocate for yourselves. As tiring as it may be, I hope you enjoy the rewards of embracing the spirit of all of your children, in whatever form they display themselves.
Cheers! December 7, 2011 8:22 pm

Kate Crafton:
Beautifully written. I also have a beautiful, loving, amazing, spirited son with SPD which they originally believed was Autism. It teaches you so much about parenting and how BLESSED you are, even during your roughest times where you want to tear your hair out and scream. Beautiful babes. God is good. December 8, 2011 3:47 pm

josh:
I kept reading this post and what kept popping into my head was...this is my daughter, Lia, to a T. To keep this comment short, I'd recommend this book: http://www.amazon.com/Raising-Your-Spirited-Child-Perceptive/dp/0060923288
Much love to you and thanks for sharing. December 9, 2011 6:17 pm

Jenni:
So beautiful Natalie! And so true! I think I may just copy and paste onto my blog and insert Max Seiuli Young! December 12, 2011 11:22 am

Ceci:
Thank you for writing this. We too have a child with special needs. We adopted her from China 4 yrs ago and are still struggling. I know what you are going through. And not many people understand. We have Fetal Alcohol Effect, attachment disorder, and Sensory Processing Disorder. I certainly can related to what you have said about keeping things normal and when they aren't, katie bar the door. Oh how I know and wish it was different. December 12, 2011 12:26 pm

Amy Paulson:
It's been days and I still don't have words to put around the way this post moved my heart. Just know this...I am beyond grateful for you sharing your heart. Your journey. The amazing-ness of your son. And for how you fight for him. I'm humbled by your love. December 12, 2011 2:48 pm

natalie:
@Ceci, I'm thinking of you. You are dealing with so many complexities. Keep putting one foot in front of the other, and try to be in the moment you're in. I think that's one of the hardest parts. . . not to fast forward and worry about the future. It doesn't do any of us any good. We've got to focus on what we can do RIGHT NOW and just trust that in so doing, we are building a good, strong road for the future. xoxo, Natalie December 14, 2011 2:10 pm

Alina:
Thank you, Nathalie. Parenting my wonderful , beautifull and loving son is one of the most authenthic, enritching and adventouros experiences: is nurturing, streatching me up, filling me up with endless love, wisdom, joy and gratefulness and just...exosting me some other times.
I could never talk and witness myself, because nobody who have not beeing through such as experience, nor family or dear friends, could grasp what my hart and my life is since I am having my dear, smart, wonderful, amazing Alex.
Thank you for voicing out what I never knew how, but I need it in order to speak out , authenthic who I am and who my wonderful son is. i need to be authenthic, I didn't find out he right way, not to shadow the beauty and grace of my son.
but I need to speak up who I am, who he is, in order to allow us to be and grow up, to refill me up with strength, creativity, peace after tireding and exosting moments; to stand up next to my briliant Alex, untill he will find his way to speak up and stand up for himself.
Bless you September 8, 2013 1:53 am

Dawn Eagle:
Both of my boys have SPD and one has ADHD as well. Your words about Cardon are so poetic and real. It's a reality I can definitely identify with! I am so happy I came across it! Thank you for sharing! October 23, 2013 8:41 am

Kate Swenson:
Your post brought tears to my eyes. I know how hard it is. You love your son more than anything in the world. He is your life. So why does it have to be so hard? It should be easy. Beautifully written. You are a great mom! December 9, 2013 2:44 pm

Niki:
Our Lia is just like your Cardon. She is beautiful, gifted and artistic. One issue I do find though, is she is mean. She laughs at other's noses and names, she pushes her sister down and is proud of herself. Lia is 6.
We have her in play therapy and soon sensory processing therapy...but is there anyone reading this that can help me in the "mean" area. It breaks my heart and scares me beyond control for her future and our future with her. Lots of love to you all. December 24, 2014 7:36 am